This Maze You Hold Me In
by BekaJWP
Summary: Complete one off look at a Potion's lesson in the MWPP era which may lead to something more...LESS.


Disclaimer: All belongs to the mighty JK *all worship*

Rating: PG-13 just to be safe, mostly for lewd thoughts that I'm sure you'll all fill in

Pairing: Sev/Lily both in their fifth year

My first Harry Potter fic! Be nice… ~text~ denotes actual thought. In case it's confusing it goes Lily, Sev, Lily, Both.

***************************************************************

She was staring at his hands again. ~Down girl~ she had to concentrate. This was her worst lesson. She couldn't afford to be distracted. Especially not by something as frivolous as her partners hands. But then they _were_ lovely hands. Long, slender fingers, milky pale skin. Perfect nails. 

That was what she had first noticed. Not bitten, stumpy nails, or ripped, dirty nails like her boys. Manicured. Smooth, short, even. Typical of the attention to detail he always paid. His observant attitude. She remembered the start of the term. 

She'd had her hair cut over the summer. Not just trimmed cut even, but properly cut- noticeable. Not to her boys though. The closest they got to noticing was a vague comment that she looked different, before they were swept up in the buzz of a new term. But that first lesson, back to the grind, back to normal, she'd walked up to their bench. He'd looked up. A slight smile. Only for her. He didn't smile to many people.

" You had your hair cut ". She blinked. He was a boy. Then again, not one of her boys, a different boy.

 " It looks nice ". She smiled. " Thanks ". The conversation had turned to the normal routine. Did you have a nice summer? Did you go anywhere nice? Etc etc. One conversation repeated 100 times over a few days. 

She wondered vaguely what the reaction would have been if she had begun listing make believe tragedy.

' Well actually my favourite Aunt died. And my dog got ran over. And I put on 6 stone. And I broke my neck. And in fact, I died '. She grinned darkly. He was starting to get to her. Damn cynicism.

Back to hand watching. He was stirring in ingredients. Deft, confident, smooth gestures. He was in his element. This class was too easy for him. He said helping her kept him occupied from otherwise utter boredom. She was no idiot though. She didn't fail the lesson- Merlin no. But it was her lowest mark. Her pride wouldn't allow her to just leave it, to admit failure. 

She'd tried to explain to her boys. The logic was alien to them. Wanting to work harder? Ravenclaw attitudes. Wanting to do better? Ambition. Slytherin. The word spoken like a curse, with a black look thrown at the Slytherin table.

It had annoyed her supremely. They spent hours poring over Quidditch tactics, hours on the pitch practicing in the hopes of winning. Had **ambition** for first place. Double standards applied, to her and them. Anything Quidditch was automatically good, loyal, Gryffindor. If she kept up her overall marks, with the help in just one lesson, then she stood a chance for the end of year prize, for Excellent Overall Achievement in O.W.L.s. Good, loyal, Gryffindor. She didn't see the difference.

She remembered an article from the muggle paper her father bought. Research showing that boys were three years less mature than girls, mentally. So 15 became 12. That made sense. For most boys. For _her_ boys. Not him.

Him…who was looking at her questioningly, yet with slight resignation. Two years of being her partner he'd come to expect the occasional daydream. 

So now she looked away from those mesmerising hands, so not to be distracted. Trouble was, it wasn't any better looking into his eyes. Or at that silky hair. Or that mouth… ~down girl!~ She was in lust. There was no way around it. Damn.

She thought, sometimes. That she saw something reflected in his eyes that might be a mutual feeling. But then maybe not. He was intensely private. They never talked about crushes, loves, dates, she had no idea the kind of look he would have in those eyes for that. And if she pushed… he might very well retreat, back into himself, and their friendship would be ruined. Lessons would become full of awkward silences. She couldn't, she wouldn't. She valued his company too much.

" Yes? "

***************************************************************

He was staring at her hair again. Pretending to casually gaze as he counted the minutes between each ingredient. He had to concentrate. It was a good job he found the lesson so easy. More and more often lately he lost track of the seconds, distracted by something she did with that hair. A flick over the shoulder. An end in her mouth. A run through of fingers. He couldn't help it.

The way the candlelight made it glow, burnished, deep, warm. The separate strands of colour merged, red, gold, copper, aglow and alive. The thick waves fell to just past her shoulders. Shorter this year. It suited her. Suited her growing maturity, framed her slender neck, and delicate features better. Maybe he'd thought about his too much. Possibly.

The memory of first lesson back flooded into his mind. The barely concealed surprise at his compliment. The _shock_ of a compliment from _him, _he thought, with a trace of bitterness. ~And what would she ever do if you said more than that? Judging so far, not react the way you want. Fool~

She couldn't hide her emotions. It was adorable to him, he the master of concealed feelings. Hers flickered across her face, fleeting, then gone. Except from her eyes. They gave away everything. That would be helpful, save that he couldn't look into her eyes for very long, without fearing she could read what was in his own gaze. Safer to look at the hair. Impersonal.

36…37…38…39…40…Add the half teaspoon of powdered asphodel root. Stir twice anti-clockwise. Wait two minutes, 17 seconds. 1…2…3…

Groans from behind. Someone…one of _them_ had left it too late. Time to start again. He smirked. Typical of _her boys _to not pay attention. Ten points from Gryffindor. Another smirk. At least now they weren't disturbing him. They wouldn't, not so long as she was his partner. The original benefit, the reason he'd agreed to partner someone connected to the Marauders in any way. There were more reasons now, of course. But the original benefit still held strong.

The same applied in Charms- her best lesson. His worst. Worst being better than most people's best- he had no qualms about admitting his skills. When he had to. One of the many reasons he and Potter- how could he put it politely?- didn't get on. When Potter could do something, he made sure the entire world knew about it. An utter braggart. Him and the other three…urgh. Calm. Think about something else. Think about her…

Her who was daydreaming again. He could tell by the slightly vacant look. He looked at her, slightly amused, slightly resigned. He didn't mind. There was nobody else he'd rather partner with. ~No one else you'd rather be with full stop~ supplied his mind.

She realised he was looking at her. The slightest flush, and a flicker of embarrassment passed over her features. " Yes? " she asked. Oh…he didn't actually want anything. Erm… " Are you following this okay? ". ~What was that? Stupidest question of the year! Merlin…~

She smiled, replied with a faint 'yeah'. 13…14…15…

" Pass me…" it was already in her hands. She passed it to him, their fingers brushing for the slightest of moments. They both stared studiously down at the cauldron. The final ingredient sprinkled in, the potion turned the correct, deep purple. Perfect.

" Snape and Evans. First done and perfect as usual. 10 points each ".

They shared a quick triumphant smile, eyes meeting again. She was acting differently. He couldn't put his finger on it but she was. Maybe…possibly…no. He was just twisting what she did to what his mind wanted it to be. Why would she ever want that? He knew what they called him- greasy git, vampire, stinking Slytherin. Unoriginal, childish, but hurtful.

" Ouch! " her yelp caught his attention. A Slytherin walking to the front had 'accidentally' walked into her, causing her to brush her hand against the hot cauldron. He caught her fingers up in his own, examining the red spot. It wouldn't blister. 

" It's okay " she murmured, " it doesn't hurt much ". She made no move to remove her hand from his though. He glared at the Slytherin. 

" No, not nearly as much as the Hex I'm going to put on him will ". 

She smiled again, shyly. " Defending my honour Sev? ". He smiled back, and very nearly blushed. _Nearly._

" Just as soon as I think of something suitably horrible ".

***************************************************************

Okay. She wasn't going to get a better chance then this. He was holding her injured hand tenderly, refusing to meet her eyes.

" We could always think of something together, I mean it's my hand ". There. It was begun now, for better or worse.

His reply was slightly less smooth than usual. Was he nervous? " Well, yeah, I guess…erm…how about tonight? "

Oh no, she didn't just want an evening. Not after taking this risk. " I've got plans actually."

" Well tomorrow's a Hogsmeade weekend, so..."

She burst in " that'd be fine. Unless you had plans to go with someone else? "

He looked flustered. But not annoyed. Slightly disbelieving maybe.

" Umm, no I didn't…I mean I don't. That'd be fine ". 

~She couldn't believe she'd done that!~

~He couldn't believe he'd done that!~

They packed away quietly, each smiling to themselves. This could be the start of something beautiful.

***************************************************************

Meant to be a stand-alone piece, however you want more I might extend it. You can always tell me when you REVIEW coz you know your going to… even if it's just one word like 'nice' or 'good' ( or *nooooooo* 'bad' or 'crap' )…go on. *Guilt Guilt*


End file.
